Wrathful Creatures
by T. Saiprose
Summary: SLASH! DorianTom JekyllOMC Tom Sawyer isn't too extraordinary by the League's standard, and he drifts on the skirts of being an outcast. However with a new maniacal madman on the foot and a near fatal accident Tom comes into the only power that could poss
1. Chapter 1

**Wrathful Creatures**

By T. Saiprose

Summary- Tom Sawyer isn't too extraordinary by the League's standard, and he drifts on the skirts of being an outcast. However with a new maniacal madman on the foot and a near fatal accident Tom comes into the only power that could possibly save The League and himself.

Author's Notes- This is the first of a 3 part Arc. There will be a prequel as well that is not part of the arc but better clarifies things and showcases the beginning of Dorian and Tom's odd bond. Amongst other things. This fiction was once titled 'Better Days' and by random choice I decided to continue it. I have already completed chapter 2 and am working on chapter 3. It was written under my previous pen name Akima Maxwell. I've made some revisions to this chapter and am quite proud of the end result. By my word of honor this fic shall be finished as I saw some potential in it.

Disclaimer - I don't own LXG but I really should've.

The day was young and the Nautilus still yet was sailing full speed across the Atlantic, as if to make the best of time they certainly had no limit of. Of course the violent storm raging outside could deter even the bravest of men into setting their sights for greener pastures, and even Capatain Nemo with the all powerful Nautilus under his command begrudgingly knew when it was time to set foot on dry land. Dorian sighed as a particularly violent wave hit the Nautilus with an alarming force. He'd had his sea legs for quite some time, but the twice be damned storm had destroyed three bottles of his finest brandy and another bottle of his favorite scotch. This of course was an unforgivable tresspass of Mother Nature. But he alone wasn't the only one to suffer.

Young Thomas had taken ill hours before the storm had began, Dorian had been above deck relishing in the uncharacteristic calm of the ocean, reveling in the kind of ardor only ridiculously priced cigarettes and complete serenity could bring. Naturally the League being what it was his peace was not to last, and the door leading down into the various decks of the ship was flung open and Sawyer dispensing with any pleasantries, dispensed with the entire contents of his stomach as well. In it's own disgusting way it was sort of amusing. It would have been even moreso had Sawyer any worries over saving face. But being born in America where a surplus of hats was the only going trend complete absence of manners was an unfortunate typicality of the young Mr. Sawyer, who was somewhat charming in his own ways.

Those same charms could be unfathomably annoying as well. Thomas, was if nothing else completely unselfish, and he had in him the desire to please. Even if it was only to be able to stay aboard this ship. Thomas was a boy driven by desire, he gave no thought to the repercussions, or anything else for that matter. He lived off his baser desires, he was openly honest, and while Dorian was not completely opposed to seeing how he could sway Mr. Sawyer's desires it still did not make up for the complete annoyance the boy caused. He'd been sick before the storm started, and the others of The League had sent him out to perform the most menial of tasks, all the while Thomas nodding and grinning in that 'shuckish' demeanor of his and going to the task without a second word. Did Mr. Sawyer not know when he was no longer needed or valued?

Thomas had become the League's milk maid for lack of a better term, and while he was good one, Dorian found the thought appauling. He was by no means a kind man, but if he no longer had user for someone or something, he did not continue to use it, or tarnish it's usefulness to another, he dispensed with said 'it'. It was as simple as a child dispensing with a toy that bored him, that no longer enthralled him as it once did. However the League continued to put up with Sawyer, whose usefulness on missions was a time few and far between. It puzzled Dorian. Perhaps they had felt a need to diversify. Or perhaps they truly thought the word of Alan Quartermaine newly risen from the dead was infallible. At any rate he'd shown little interest in Thomas since getting his son returned to him had become a possibility, and barely spared a passing glance to Thomas who so blindly worshipped him, and, for a time, had been his 'replacement son'. So the League keeping on the conspicuous American spy was pointless. They had an invisible man on the team, a spy was comically redundant.

Still the League continued to find little uses, which had included a pathetically sick Mr. Sawyer helping Nemo's men detect leaks, delivering tools, and even scrubbing down the walls. Had they lost touch with reality? It was possible. So long had the League been amongst their own kind, or destructive forces of equal magnitude it was possible they had lost touch with the mortal coil. And Dorian knew better than any of them what it was like to lose touch with the coil. He'd been on the outskirts of it for countless years. In fact he was still waiting for the hoop skirts to go out of fashion. He trusted the would disappear as quickly as those impossibly high necks did. Dorian grinned despite himself. Would the League find Thomas out of fashion soon? But the more pressing question was would they discard him as easily as gaudy clothing? After they had called him a hearltess monster so many times in the past would they live up to the hipocricy he so expected of them? Oh he hoped so, even if it did involve Sawyer being the casualty of his rebuttal. He wondered briefly if being right was even considered a vice?

It was no small secret Dorian was unwelcome there, that was for certain, but he was needed. So the chance to mock the League and then get to laugh at their dummed down retaliations would be grand. But Thomas was another story completely, he wouldn't be mocked, Gods knew he'd done enough of that to the boy in his pursuits of Mena. Thomas was unwelcome and unneeded but still The League tolerated him because Quartermaine said so. The League acknowledged Dorian and welcomed him into their folds because he was like them, and Quartermaine himself made that reason perfectly clear to all of them. However neither he nor Thomas were members of The League, who clung to eachother like a teen clique. And as much as he truly hated to admit it, he and Thomas were of the same ilk.

Dorian was violently pushed out of his reveries by a continuous crash, the distinct sound of metal striking metal. The noise grated against his nerves, and no matter how much time passed the sound didn't seem to end. There was still a nuance of it, a residual echo that played tricks on his ears, made sensitive over time. He would have almost been alarmed had he not known that Nemo had sent Sawyer to deliver tools to fix a small leak in one of the hulls below the guest quarters. "Aw, dern it!" Dorian chuckled at Sawyer's alternative to mildly colored vocabulary. And continued to laugh harder at the sound of a body hitting the floor as well. Composing himself Dorian strolled down the hall to where Sawyer was sitting on a small mountain of tools, and looking absolutely miserable.

"Sawyer, I hardly think it vital you deliver these tools, in fact Nemo has hundreds of well trained men on this ship here for just that purpose. And you're doing far more harm than good." Dorian offered a hand to help the boy up but the American snorted and opted to right himself, groaning as a particularly strong wave crashed against the outer hull of the ship, sending Tom swaying to the side. He would have struck the wall had Dorian not been there to play the hero once more and catch him when he fell. Thomas was disconcertingly light.

"Ah, nice catch Mr. Gray," he said in a weak voice and knelt to reassemble the tools once more. If his face hadn't already been burning with exertion it would have been burning by mortification. The last thing he needed was Dorian Gray's ever so constructive criticisms on his situation. Thomas groaned remember that it was Mr. Gray who had brought him back from the jaws of death itself when they had been overtaken, and he was the unnecessary sacrifice. He remembered everyone looking away from him as he opened his eyes, everyone except Alan and Mr. Gray. And Mr. Gray, he just looked at him with that ever knowing smirk, and Alan looked at him with pity. It was Mr. Gray who had literally breathed life into him when his lungs were filled with water, and afterwards it was Gray who said the most hurtful truth to him.

_"When Alan insisted you stay on, he didn't think you we're going to be so foolish." _Tom remembered the words, they were a painful cadence to his ears to this day. And he tried everything in his power to prove to The League he wasn't a hindrance. And he certainly didn't need that poofter Mr. Gray saving his ass at every corner just to humiliate him the next. He'd gone over the scenario thousands of times in his head. Tom was sure he'd saved them all in some way. He'd saved Gray and Mrs. Harker an eternity trapped in water. He'd saved Alan from a second death. Rodney didn't die nameless, faceless, and unnoticed. Nemo would have had the oppourtunity to go down with his ship in the future instead of in a flooded room. And he'd saved both Jekyll and Hyde. He was the only one they hadn't bound, the only one they'd carelessly unshackled as Rand laughingly told him that he would watch his friends die because he was too weak and too useless. But unknowlingly or perhaps knowingly Rand had left them an option so of course as the room began to fill with water he threw himself down the drain pipe and into the completely submerged room to turn off the flow. Who would have honestly thought that in such a time Mena would have a pin in her hair, and he would have had the presence of mind to remember that Rodney could pick locks? Best not to dwell on such thoughts. Tom simply continued gathering tools. Hands shaking as voices continued to pervade his senses.

He'd known he had died even before Dorian had returned him to life, he'd felt a tug that seemed so familiar and so right he let himself be lead. Into a swirling vortex of light that rivaled the images Dante conjured in Paradiso where Heavenly beings with great white wings and silk chitons dipped in and out of ponds of light orbiting God himself. No it was something more. It was as if he'd been judged the moment he died, and had been deemed worthy entrance into Heaven. It was his initiation into divinity. And as the silk swarmed around him, and tendrils of light wrapped their way around his legs he felt content to tilt his head back, and allow the light to engulf him. It overtook him for only a moment, seething into his muscles, his eyes, illuminating his mind with all the knowledge the world had to offer, but seconds passed that seemed like days and he was yanked from the light. Yanked from the marble floors lightly misted with clouds which did indeed have a lining to them of every imaginable color. Tom Sawyer was taken away from the light he so desired, and desperately he held onto a vestige of what he had been granted before waking up to Dorian Gray's mouth upon his. And here he was now, picking up tools.

"Mr. Sawyer that won't be necessary, allow Nemo's crew to do what they are paid to do. You on the other hand will come with me to my quarters. We're going to do something about this sickness of yours." In no means was Dorian a mother hen, but even he had his limits. And Thomas walking around in such a state, at the Leagues's beck and call bothered him, besides there was also the matter that taking care of his sickness would involve Sawyer splayed across his bed, half naked, sweaty and flushed, and most importantly of all, not talking. And Dorian had no qualms with that.

"But-." It was the protest of a man who wanted to be taken care of. It was a protest just for the sake of it. And it was said in a tone of submission strangely appealing considering it was coming from Thomas.

"There will be no arguments on your side Mr. Sawyer, just follow me." For once Tom complied and followed the other man meekly. Well as meekly as he could muster without seeming like... What had Skinner called them? A ponce.

"Mr. Gray," said Tom stopping as a particularly violent wave of nausea overtook him.

"Yes Thomas?"

"My rooms are uh, back that way," he said jabbing a thumb half-heartedly in the opposite direction.

"I know Thomas, I was not intending to return you to your quarters. I am taking you to my quarters. Now then, that's settled, so I'll please ask that you cease with your incessant questioning before I let you return to meandering about as The League's gopher boy." Dorian stated briskly before grabbing hold of Sawyer's hand and all but dragging the difficult boy to his room. Upon reaching his quarters Dorian ushered in Thomas quickly for fear a rarely seen Quartermaine would make an appearance and destroy his fun before it had even began.

"Ah, Mr. Gray I really think I should be getting back to work. I reckon Cap'n Nemo'll be a sight soar at me for leaving tools scattered everywhere." Said Tom wringing the fabric of his shirt nervously.

"Thomas have I not told you before that Quartermaine did not expect you to act foolishly? Now trapeezing about in this contraption half dead, and on this ship I use the term loosely, and trying to help makes you a hindrance. And Nemo can be a sight soar at you all he likes, frankly the man is starting to annoy me, and you are too." Dorian grinned he knew he'd hit a nerve with Thomas as soon as he mentioned Quartermaine. He almost laughed out loud as he saw the wheels turning in the simple American's head. And there truly was nothing to think about. Well if one were Dorian Gray there wasn't. Thomas sighed in defeat and returned his attention to Dorian. "That's a good lad. Now be an even better lad and take off your shirt."

"What?" Tom voice cracked as he said the word and it came out sounding horribly like an indignant school girl.

"You heard what I said Thomas. I'm going to bring down your fever."

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"Ah! Mr. Gray. Ouch. It hurts!" Came a cry from Dorian's room that sounded a lot like one Tom Sawyer.

"Well Thomas if you stopped fidgeting so much perhaps it wouldn't hurt quite so badly." Came Dorian's exasperated voice from behind the door.

"Wot the Hell..." Rodney trailed off and put his ear against the thick metal of the door straining to hear. They had quieted down and now barely a whisper passed through the walls. But years of training allowed him to discern the words fairly easily.

Tom lay panting on the bed, arms splayed across the sides and blonde curls falling wildly around his face. His back was slick with sweat and scotch, and the scratches that riddled his body were burning dully but he felt better than he had in days. The alcohol evaporated on his skin and gentle breezes ghosted across his back sending chills down his spine. Tom shuddered.

Dorian leaned back in a chair to observe Thomas. "Putty," thought Dorian watching Thomas shudder and then sigh in contentment as he closed his eyes. Thomas responded unsually to touch, leaning in to a gentle caress, and especially sensitive when it came to his hair. Dorian had ran a gentle hand through the blonde locks lifting it up to spread the alcohol on the boys fevered neck, and Thomas almost purred at the touch. "Feeling better Mr. Sawyer?"

"Whu? Huh. Oh yeah, loads Mr. Gray. The world's still spinnin' a little bit. But I reckon it'll pass, I know I ain't gonna get my sea legs moping about 'cause the worlds runnin' without me. I gotta keep workin. Well I better get back to my quarters, I feel like I'm imposin'," he said jumping to his feet only to find his world tilting at nauseating levels. Tom caught himself quickly enough, hanging onto a beam crossing the ceiling of Dorian's quarters.

"Thomas I'm willing to assume you are a fairly intelligent man if not from wisdom than from experience, however limited the latter may be. But I trust you know well what it's like to be dehyrdrated."

"I-I've seen people, I mean, America ain't nothing but lakes, streams, rivers, 'cept maybe out west. But I know it ain't good."

"You're right Mr. Sawyer it isn't. But you can stake money on the fact that Captain Nemo and the others will have you running about like a dog in a condition where you can barely hold water. Rest here for awhile and then return to your room at night, when everyone else is sleeping," said Dorian slipping a hand around Sawyer's waist to lower him to the bed. Thomas instantly leaned into his touch and Dorian chuckled silently. Somehow he was staging an inadvertent seduction.

"I hate them," Tom muttered under his breath illiciting an almost shocked stare from Dorian. "Sometimes, I mean, at least I think I do. Ah, that came out all wrong."

"No do elaborate Thomas. I don't think it came out wrong at all. And though you can't necessarily trust me Mr. Sawyer, don't take that the wrong way because no one can, I am no great fan of 'The League's behavior as of late, if you will." Tom sighed.

"Mr. Gray, I don't mean to offend ya in any way but, I doubt you'd get it." Thomas said running a hand through his hair, a nervous habit that never failed to appear in any of Thomas's confrontations with Dorian. Dorian was insulted, Thomas was the one who didn't seem to 'get it' but Dorian let his indignation slide for the moment in favor of goading Thomas into a far more entertaining mood.

"And why, pray tell, would I not get it?"

"Well I don't know, it's just sometimes you seem pretty out of it, pursuing your vices and all. And when you do take an interest outside of that it usually has to do with a mission not something petty or pointless in the long run," Tom stated shrugging. Dorian was intrigued. That had to be the single most intelligent, if not slightly skewed statement he'd ever heard the American say.

"I assure you I'm not out of it Thomas. And do you really consider yourself petty and pointless?" Ah, Dorian felt the mad doctor dissecting a brain he knew nothing of but instead of Thomas lying on a red leather couch pouring out childhood traumas he was in Dorian's bed half naked, and sweating profusely.

"Well c'mon Mr. Gray, I'm a lotta things, but stupid surely ain't something I've ever been called. I'm a spy on a ship with an invisible man. And ya know Alan's even losing his voice around here, he's so dead bent on finding his son. And I'm just along for the ride. I feel like I need to be here, but I'm the only one who feels that way. And I'm not going to step on anyone's toes until I find what I'm looking for. Nemo once said we were all hidin' from something, I'm not hiding anymore, I'm standing out in the wide open trying to find it, and now I'm further back than where I started from."

"And what is it that you're looking for Thomas, that is so important, you have compromised this crew on several occasions just by being you?" Dorian questioned trying to get a rise out of the somber boy. Hoping to flare up his temper.

"Well I don't rightly know Mr. Gray. But I swear up and down I'm tryin' to set things right here. It's just, now, when I look at Mena she ain't half as beautiful as she used to be. Alan's a completely different person, and everything changed since I... acted like a fool that day. Those things that used to confuse me, that left me puzzled for days aren't so puzzling any more. Not since that day, I think, when I died and you saved me. Things changed."

"Oh since you decided to let yourself become a human clog in an oversized drainpipe you've suddenly become all knowing and world weary in a way wisemen long to be years before they're men?"

"Well, yeah, Mr. Gray if you want to put it that way, you're half right. It's still something I can't explain myself. I'm different... since Rand. And it's scary because he's still out there, and I know he is, and out of everyone he has something against me. He wanted me in the drain pipe, he knew I'd go in it." A frown graced Tom's features for a moment, but it drifted away as quickly as it appeared. "I regret that I did it, it was selfish you know. I was taking the easy way out, trying to play the hero so I wouldn't have to live up to bein' extraordinarily human with all of you. You know? And then I really did die, and you brought me back, and you're now the only one who seems to look at me. And I never even thanked you for bringin' me back Mr. Gray. And I feel like a bigger heel than ever."

Dorian tried not to let a smile grace his lips. He discovered it took very little to goad the boy into talking. Into rambling, at length, about nothing and then about everything. Thomas had been paying careful attention to his surroundings. To how he was treated by the others, and he even picked up that he and Dorian were on the same boat, in the metaphorical sense of course. Of course Thomas had been a little extraordinary in that department, his mind was always working, save of course when it came to etiquette. And perhaps maybe Dorian felt it was a little vile of him to let Thomas throw himself such a pity party over nothing.

"Thomas?"

"Yeah Mr. Gray?"

"First off call me Dorian, please. You know, there was always a chance that Skinner wouldn't have been able to get out of those chains. You dived into a drainpipe knowing you would most likely die without a second thought not even caring whether it was the right thing to do. And while it was extremely foolish, there were no guarantees that if Skinner had even gotten out of the chains and freed Mrs. Harker or I that we would have been able to get to the drain in time. I truly doubt they told you that. And as for saving your life Thomas, I am sure you'd do the same for me."

"Of course Mr. G- Dorian. Though I doubt you'll ever need me to save ya. I mean somehow you came back with your painting, you're here again. I don't understand how all that works, but you do, but I really do appreciate you tryin' to humor me." He said frowning as another bout of nausea hit him. "You know you're the last person I ever expected to have one of those heart to heart talks with. I mean it must bore you. You've done everything."

"Oh, there's still a few things I want to do Thomas. This world is constantly changing, minds have become more daring with the passage of time, given a freedom to roam many were hard pressed to find in the days of my youth, I will never be at a loss for what to do," Dorian said curling a lock of Tom's hair around his finger as his mind drifted a bit.

"What do you still want to do?" Thomas asked as he fought not to lean back against Dorian. The last thing he wanted to do was embarass himself by swooning into his arms like a school girl.

"Several things, that may lead to... regrettable consequences. Entirely personal really Thomas." Dorian patted Thomas on the shoulder in an almost apologetic gesture but used the hand to gently pull Tom back into his embrace. "You've still quite a fever."

"And I'm willing to wager it'll pass as soon as the storm does Mr.- Dorian. Sorry about tryin' to pry though. I get to talkin' and it's hard to shut me up y'know. Why most people just tell me outright ta shut my mouth while I'm ahead, so feel free to let me know when I'm annoying you."

"I think I could perhaps welcome your company for somewhat extended periods of time. That is providing you're always this willing to make yourself comfortable," Dorian purred running a hand through Thomas's hair. That know all, see all grin plastered itself across his face. _"But my, he is a fun one to fluster. And exceptionally fetching when he blushes," _thought Dorian as the boy tensed in his arms. The red spreading across his cheeks just as Dorian knew it would.

"Fetching?" The word came unbidden from Tom's lips before he had time to stop it.

"Pardon?"

"Y-you said somethin' about 'fetching' did you want me ta get ya something?" Dorian regarded Tom with something akin to astonishment before a grin crossed over his charming features.

"I merely commented you are actually very fetching for a poorly groomed American boy." Commented Dorian offhandedly, but still making sure to tighten his grip on Thomas ever so gently. Tom felt the gentle pressure and began to stammer.

"I- Uh... Well that's to say... well damn Dorian you're the first person to ever say uh that... not in so many words... and um. Well you're a man!"

"European men have strange ways too Thomas, but I assure you there are many things in America going on behind locked doors that rival my eccentricities. So what does my being a man have to do with anything?"

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Rodney strained to hear the conversation going on behind closed doors. It was too good. It was a theatric drama at its finest. With Dorian dead intent on swaying Tom into his advances, and the unnaccepting father figure known as one Alan Quartermaine. It was a story of the ages, and Rodney had front row seats, and now an unbelievable amount of blackmail. That is if he ever intended to use it. He kind of liked Tom, Dorian though could go to Hell. But still this was too good to be true. "Ah, 'haps I don't want to be skulkin' about when the walls start a bangin'." He muttered upon hearing a thud.

"Perhaps, the lovers want some privacy," came a voice from behind. Rodney spun around and found himself face to face with a boy. His hands held high in the air a small smile gracing his face. "Just so you know, before you find it necessary for a fight to ensue, I do surrender." Rodney blanched. The boy was looking him dead in the eyes, and Rodney fancied he could see himself in those unfamiliar green eyes.

"'Ow'd you get here!" He cried grabbing ahold of the blonde boys arm.

"I'm perfectly willing to explain, in fact if there is someone in charge present I would like to speak to them. There's a man in a dead faint in one of the rooms," he said pointing towards Jekyll's quarters.

"Well okay then, I 'ave to say as far as stow aways go, your bein' a might too cooperative."

"I'm not a stow-a-way," he said as Skinner dragged him to Alan.

"Sure you're not." Said Rodney heaving a sigh and dragging the boy along. Completely forgetting the entertainment gained from thin walls and conniving men.

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Nemo frowned at the blinking screens before him, his bushy brows furrowing in concentration as he tried to pin point the source of his distress. "This is is perplexing," he said to Quartermaine.

"What is?"

"A moment ago I registered a signifigant electrical discharge, but as quickly as it came it faded. But there is still residue of some sort from the charge left, it's burnt out some of the lights on level C."

"Well then, I suspect it's just a faulty wire of some kind, nothing to get worked up about. You have a crew for just such this reason." Quatermaine's interest was not particularly piqued. The days had become dull and restless for him. Anything outside of regaining his son didn't seem to matter. They just needed to find that last missing link. That last tiny piece of map that would lead them to the answer.

"Perhaps young Mr. Sawyer could be of some assistance. I must admit he's as skilled with the engineering of this ship as some of my more seasoned crew." Nemo said. Allan paid him no heed, he was to engrossed in grousing over a layout.

"Well then are you going to spend the day spying on them, or are you going to introduce me to your esteemed Captain?" Asked the blonde boy, once more staring at an invisible Skinner as if he were a full man once more standing before him.

"'Ey kid can you see me? Cuz yer staring a hole right through me." Rodney finally asked. The boy smiled.

"Of course not. You have your hand on my arm in an iron grip though. It's not hard to gauge your reaction. And visible or not, I like to try to look at the person I am talking to. Manners. Y'know?"

"Polite Stow-A-Ways who'd 've thought?" Thought Rodney as he approached the door to the the control room. Both Nemo and Quartermaine were there.

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"Well you being a man may not have much to do with anything for you. But it does to me. I mean it may to you too somehow but I doubt it. I mean well yeah it has something to do with the both of us... Okay, well darn I don't know nothin' about ya, I've never really liked another man, and I'm still sittin' only half dressed in your room. That's reasonable though considering-" Tom was cut off mid ramble by Dorian brushing his lips gently across his. "Oh."

"Oh indeed," said Dorian. "What do you mean by 'never really' liked another man?" He asked quirking an eyebrow.

"Long story. It's uh..."

"Complicated?"

"You could say that."

"Indeed. But I take it then your aversion to my advances are not that of repulsion?" Tom turning bright red bowed his head. Ah, now he was being too forward, better now to reverse and revel in the small victory he had won. "Never mind then, I suppose you can only have one great epiphany at a time. But mind my words Sawyer I do take the lack of righteous idignation, and you not spewing biblical nonsense as permission to pursue you.

"Well, uh... Now wait a minute. Why're you wantin' to pursue me? Mena's right down the hall!" Tom stood ignoring the nausea and the vertigo. He had tired himself by playing the meek church mouse. He was Tom Sawyer for Christ's sake. It may not have meant much on the Nautilus but back home it did. Back home where he built himself a reputation and floated down the river pretty as you please on a makeshift raft never lookin' back. He'd never hesitated to do anything, he never thought of anyone, he never let anyone push him around. Even in his younger years, he'd gone so far as to fake his own death. But was Dorian really pushing him around?

"Calm down Thomas. Why would I want to further pursue Mena? She meant nothing to me in the first place, and then tried to kill me as well. She succeeded for a time with the latter."

"How'd you get back?"

"That my boy is a secret I shall divulge to noone, as I value its power quite greatly."

"I understand. I don't guess you want Mena trying to kill you again. Or uh... temporarily incapacitating you, you seem to have an odd way of coming back." Tom said trying to find a way to put it. His manner of speaking was dim in comparison to Dorian's, in he felt oddly inadequate trying to speak to him.

"I linger."

"I wouldn't say that, your presence is way to strong to linger. You're still here, very much functional, and not livin' in past. Not physically anyways." Dorian looked at Thomas intently. There was within this crude American boy an understanding, an omnipresent one that looked beyond the walls of normalcy. His mind spun in such a way that every action deserved deep thought, a story, and it kept his head in the clouds. Though when he was needed on firm ground he did not disappoint.

"Well said Thomas. You flatter me and I enjoy it immensely." A blush slowly crept across Tom's cheeks and Dorian leaned in. A hand planted on Tom's shoulder to steady the boy and prevent him from leaning back. Tom inhaled a shaky breath as Dorian's face edged ever closer. When their breaths had begun to mingle and Dorian could feel the heat from Tom's skin radiating onto him and pouring into him as if it were his own, as Dorian had just felt Tom leaning slightly in, a pounding on the door sent them both flying back.

"Dorian, come to the bridge immediately!" The voice of Mena Harker.

"Oh, she seems agitated it must be something important." Dorian shrugged off the interruption and the moment as if it were nothing and rose from the bed. "I daresay you'll be expected to make an appearance." Tom blinked.

"Uh, oh yeah. They're probably wondering where all those tools went." Tom grinned.

Dorian held out his shirt. "I'll daresay they want you to come clothed as well." If possible Tom turned an even deeper shade of red and took the shirt sheepishly. Dorian held back a smirk. Now Thomas had decided to become shy. He had been nervous, which was to be expected. But now he was shy. As if they had gotten to know eachother in a biblical sense.

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"Tell me. We have not been at any dock for at least two weeks. What I would like to know is how you managed to sneak aboard and not be detected for that length of time." Said Quartermaine. The boy before them sat attentively and allowed for a slight pause and repeating his answer for what surely seemed like the thousandth time.

"I did not sneak aboard this ship. And come on, there's an invisible man standing in this room and a vampire," at that comment he looked on at Mena with undisguised disdain. "You mean you're gonna tell me, while in this company, that me getting here through no act of my own by like super natural forces unknown, is impossible?"

"He makes a valid point Quartermaine." Dorian stood at the door to the bridge casually, and Thomas entered close behind. He grinned as Mena eyed him suspiciously.

"What'd I miss. Who're you?" Asked Tom looking at the blonde stow a way.

"Who are you?" The boy returned.

"I asked you first." Shot back Tom.

"That skillful interrogation shall surely lead to fruit Tom," said Mena scathingly. The blonde boy rose a brow at the woman, and looked at Tom, smiling as he spoke.

"I'm Arden. Pleased to meet you."

"You're American! Where are you from," Said Tom immediately taking a further interest in Arden.

"New york," said Arden immediately taken in by Tom's friendly disposition.

"Though I sincerely regret to cut these pleasantries short, there still remains the matter of you coming aboard this ship. And in whatever fashion you managed to get aboard, it was most unwelcome and a compromise to our security." Said Nemo. "Not to mention the fact that one of our crew members is missing. You must realize this puts us at quite an imposition of how to deal with you."

"Oh if you're talkin' about the fidgety guy, he uh, fainted when I 'dropped in'." Arden smiled, and as if to speak of the devil, Jekyll ran into the room.

"There was a boy, dropped out of the sky he did, left my quarters a mess... Blonde... on the ship..." If one looked closely they could see the indentation of Rodney Skinner's hand on his shoulder as he tried to placate the panicking Jekyll.

"By any chance was it 'at bloke right there at the table," he said pointing to Arden though he knew the gesture was quite in vain. Jekyll nodded mutely.

"Well I guess your crew isn't compromised now." Quartermaine frowned. "Now do you believe me?" The League stood stock still for a moment, all assessing the situation silently, though noone moving to make a suggestion. "Listen, I really don't know why I'm here, and I'm really glad you guys are taking it so well, because uh... well I really don't know what to do."

"Perhaps we shall have to see how this path turns," said Nemo. "I will treat you as a guest aboard my ship considering the circumstances, but you will be under surveillance, whether you know it or not." Nemo looked to the rest of the crew for ascent, one by one they all nodded, vexed, but curious. All in all this couldn't have been too horribly out of the norm for them, considering what they had seen. "Very well then, welcome Arden, to the Nautilus."

You like? Comment if you want. I'm going to go eat some cheetos and watch Seaquest DSV until I fall asleep in front of my TV with my face in a bowl of spaghettios.


	2. Things Surely Missed

**Chapter 2**

Author's Notes- A little history about Arden. Arden is an original character I created that I used to RP with. I haven't changed his history much but just enough that he's in no means a Gary Stu. He was all fine and dandy for RPing but I have defintely changed some things about him. You'll soon find out who Rand is. For the arc to work I have to be all mysterious. Wooooo. Many plot twists are in store. Also note that this story is chock full of slashy goodness. Don't like it? Don't read.

Also thanks to lelann37! My first review hooray!!! I totally heart you! And now without further ado chapter 2 of this monstrosity of a fiction consuming my life. Aye warning. Thar be slash ahead. But you all were probably expecting that no?

Disclaimer- I do not own The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen. If you did you better believe Dorian and Tom would have been getting sweaty and horizontal while M watched or something along those equally depraved lines. I do however own every original character in this popsicle stand.

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The next few days on the Nautilus passed rather uneventfully in Mena Harker's opinion. However things were changing. Arden, their young stow-a-way, had somehow managed to absolutely enchant Henry Jekyll and they spent most of their time playing chess or chatting about this and that. It appeared the young man was very knowledgeable on many subjects, including sciences, but he would not impart upon them how he came to gain such a knowledge uncommon of a young man his age. Henry seemed quite happy to find a companion as soft spoken as he with which to play chess. It was the doctor's favorite pasttime when he was not working. It was a piece of information none of the League knew about.

This bothered Mena, they knew so little about eachother, each locked away and left to their own devices. The entire League minus Dorian thought themselves thick as thieves. But was that really such a truth? A young man aboard the ship only a few days had worked himself into the quiet doctor's good graces, something which Mena thought she and the rest of the League had accomplished only to find it was not to be. How many times had Henry sat down with the boy if only just for tea where as he had never invited Mena or anyone else for that matter to such a thing? Arden had found a quick friend in Rodney as well who listened intently to the bizarrely creative jokes Arden seemed to have a repetoire of. Did they not regard him as a potential threat anymore?

In fact Rodney, Arden, and even Henry often sat down to play cards together. Though after Rodney was found to be cheating on several occassions they forced him to wear a coat to make sure the man was not peeking at cards. They were an odd trio, a mysterious stow-a-way, the ever composed doctor, and the often crass thief but they started to be regular companions. Just as Quartermaine and Nemo were but only more at ease with eachother. Thanks to Rodney's rather absurd sense of humore the card games got out of hand rather quickly and laughter began to echo down the halls. At first Mena thought it odd. Then found it sad that such a thing as laughter should be remiss in her world aboard the Nautiulus. Had they really drawn in on themselves in such a way?

When she thought about it it seemed as if her teammates did not engage in the laughter and antics that Nemo's crew did. She noticed for the first time the stares that followed her in the hall. They looked at her as if she were not a sentient being but rather an odd animal. They looked that way at all of the League save Tom who spent most of his free time with the crew laughing and joining in on the fun that the League themselves had not been privvy too. Was it their own doing? It couldn't be. How could a regular person possibly understand the demons inside them all?

Perhaps the strangest thing of all was another odd pair aboard the ship. Dorian had taken to dropping by and speaking to young Tom from time to time. No doubt the man was planning some sort of advance towards the boy, or perhaps Tom found himself enthralled with Dorian the way Mena once was. At any rate it was something Mena simply could not abide and Quartermaine would certainly feel the same if it was brought to his attention. The entire thing was unnatural. One day Dorian had no interest in the dull American boy and the next she rounded corners of the ship to find Dorian and Tom deep in conversations they would abruptly cut short once her presence or anyone elses were noted. Once she watched them from afar, saw Tom bow his head in some sort of obvious embarassment, only to see Dorian ruffle his hair in a blatantly affectionate gesture. Her envy was unsurmountable though she herself did not notice such. To Mena it was simply an annoying gnawing sensation in the pit of her stomach the lady carnivore attributed to anger at seeing Dorian attempt to corrupt yet another soul. Whatever seduction he was staging was a slow one. During her entire affair with the man he was simply not prone to any acts of affection that did not lead to some heady encounter later on. But most of the time the man would walk away from Tom with a charming grin and a polite goodbye. Perhaps Tom was smart enough to rebuff the man's advances? Never mind that when he smiled it was usually only seen in conversations with the immortal hedonist and no more did he attempt to woo Mena as he had in the past. Strange things were afoot on The Nautilus and Mena was bound and determined to fix it once and for all. Perhaps starting with their young stow-a-way.

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"Checkmate." Arden frowned as he watched Jekyll's rook overtake his king in a move he had not seen coming in a million years. He'd not been paying attention to Jekyll's previous move and had been suprised as Hell when what he thought would be his victory was quashed by Henry castling (1) his rook and king making Arden's queen useless and trapping his king between his queen and a bishop. If he remembered correctly it was his 16th defeat to Jekyll and he currently had zero wins.

"Oh man, and here I was thinking I was going to win a game. My ego is now officially this small," said Arden seperating his thumb and pointer finger a fraction of an inch as an indication. Henry chuckled and began to reset the board. It had become something of a ritual for he and the doctor to play chess well into the night until both of their eyelids were heavy. Henry, as the doctor insisted Arden call him, adored games of risk, chance, and strategy as much as Arden and never tired of them. They spoke of various things while playing and Henry had taught Arden invaluable rules to the game of chess that had improved his playing exceptionally. Though he still was not remotely close to the same level as Henry.

"I daresay you'd enjoy this game if you lost everyday for the rest of your life. Which I'm sure you won't."

"I will if I keep playing against you," said the boy with a mock pout before beginning his opening move by rather foolishly moving his pawn forward two spaces. (2) However Henry said nothing as the boy tended not to make the same mistake twice. Henry quite liked games as it was quick to expose a person's true colors and allowed one to use all their higher thought functions in one go. In Arden's case, the boy simply enjoyed the game and viewed winning as a bonus but not a necessity. It spoke volumes for him and made Henry think his quietness was merely put in place to maintain his honest and forthright nature. The boy rarely spoke of where he came from and how he came to be on The Nautilus and the League didn't push him for the information. Two moves later Arden managed to overtake Henry's bishop.

"I'm flattered." Moving his knight over two spaces and up one he stole Arden's pawn. Arden stuck his tongue out at the man and made another one of his seemingly random moves. It put Henry on his guard instantly as those moves were of the particularly tricky ilk to dissect.

"You know my friend's a doctor." Henry looked up suprised. It was the first time Arden had volunteered any information about his home.

"Oh. What field?" Henry moved his bishop one less space than he intended smiling at the rather intent look on Arden's face. The boy absolutely lacked any sort of poker face as his impossibly blue eyes widened when he realized he could capture Henry's queen. It was not always to the victor the spoils went as he quite enjoyed indulging the boy when he was to be rewarded with such comical faces.

"I don't know if surgery is a field. But that's what she does. I don't know how she does it. I get queasy just thinking about it."

"A lady doctor Arden? That's rather remarkable." Another faulty move by Henry allowed Arden the opening he needed to move into a position conducive to capturing Henry's King. It was another indication of the boy's home. A place that appeared to be rather liberal.

"Oh wow, um check," Arden was clearly flustered as this was one of the very few times he'd managed to get the doctor into such a position. "What's so weird about a girl doctor?"

"Ah, I apologize, I forget you've had almost no experience with this world. Women are rather... not so much denied as they are well discouraged from seeking positions like that. Medical colleges often outright refuse women admittance unless she contests it. Which so few do as it could lead to embarassment for her and her family. Or other regrettable consquences. Mena is an exception to the rule. But she's rather... forceful."

"Dude that's trippy. If you tried to tell a girl where I'm from she couldn't do something just because she's a chick heads would start to roll. No lie. Especially with Reanne. She's forceful too." Jekyll started to laugh. Arden had a delightful if not sometimes indecipherable way of speaking. Another clear indication he was from a very different place than any of them. Tom usually had the best luck understanding the odd slang Arden used. A slang which had succeeded in utterly taking aback every member of the crew at least once.

"I suppose the heads would roll in Mena's case as well. Forgive me my boy, but there were at least four words and two phrases in that sentence I simply did not understand. Does everyone speak so oddly where you're from?" Henry asked as he waited for Arden to realize he had gotten him into a checkmate. Though the boy had a delicate way with words and was entirely too shy in some instances he did have the occasional outburst that everyone on the ship was hard pressed to understand.

"Oh sorry. I promise I notice how proper everyone's speech is here but I forget sometimes." Arden looked somewhat crestfallen and flustered. Henry frowned.

"I like the way you speak Arden. Don't be sorry. Some of the monikers you have for things are absolutely delightful if not somewhat of a mystery. I don't expect you to completely drop a manner of speaking you've known and used your entire life. Besides you absolutely scandalized Mena and Dorian on several occasions. Don't tell anyone but I found it quite amusing. I've never seen them make such faces before. They're always so composed." A wide smile instantly spread across Arden's face and Henry was unusually pleased with himself for that.

"Oh, like when I told Mena to 'chill out man'? I wasn't trying to be mean or rude or anything. I'm just really uncomfortable around her and it was like a defense response or something. I didn't know she thought I was literally calling her a man until Rodney told me she'd been ranting about 'the rude young stow away' to Nemo and Allan." Arden had rather impressively mimicked Mena's manner of speaking at the Stow-away part causing Henry to nearly drop his tea in delight and suprise. Wanting to question Arden about his clear aversion to Mena but thinking better of it he opted to change the subject. The boy was finally revealing bits and pieces of himself Henry was eager to learn more of. Not only would such a thing benefit the League but Henry was very interested in the oddly dressed young man himself.

"I've been meaning to ask you what that meant."

"Oh um in so many words it means calm down or relax." Henry looked puzzled.

"But chill is cold. How does it become calm in such a context?"

"Hahaha, explaining that would take a looong time. And I am sure I've already monopolized enough of your time as it is."

"Nonsense Arden, I enjoy our time together."

"Yes, but Rodney told me that you usually had your nose in a book or your eye over a microscope lens and I'd hate to think I was keeping you from something important just to play a game." Once again that odd guilty slash crestfallen look had spread over his features.

"Well I have been neglecting my projects." Henry saw the guilty expression increase ten-fold and laughed inwardly to himself. Their chess game had been all but forgotten in favor of conversation. It was a mean thing to say but he couldn't resist a bit of trickery on his part. Arden was so expressive he couldn't help but find it comical and oddly endearing. "Tell you what. I'm not up to anything terribly top secret or classified tomorrow. Just some boring cultures (3) and observations. I mean most wouldn't find it at all interesting... but-but if you'd like an extra set of hands is always useful. I'm sure it must be getting rather boring playing cards or sitting in your quarters all day. And well I'd understand if you didn't want to and I'm sure Rodney would find your company entertaining..." Henry groaned inwardly. God help him he was babbling.

"Really!? No, it doesn't sound boring at all. I want to help. I actually think that stuff like that is really interesting. I mean, when I went to school we didn't get to do stuff like that. We always had to read boring books and I always wanted to fiddle around with the lab stuff. But it always sat there and noone ever used it because our teachers totally didn't wanna teach. That's why nobody liked school." Suddenly he paused and glanced down at the board. "Hey that's a checkmate." Henry laughed.

"I was wondering when you'd notice. See? I told you you'd win. Probability dictates you must. To be honest I'm quite happy you agreed to help. It gets rather dull dictating outcomes to myself."

"Well you can dictate to me. I'll be the Igor to your Doctor Frakenstein only I won't walk with a limp unless you think it will help." Being quick of mind Henry quickly noted what had to be a completely unintentional slip-up on Arden's part. Yet again he did not question Arden's sudden knowledge of literature but it did provide a big clue as to where he came from though Henry was not ready to make any concrete hypotheses quite yet. While he drifted off Arden glanced back down at the chess board and pulled his face into a frown.

The movies Henry had been making were horribly inconsistent with any he had been making before. The man had distracted him enough that Arden didn't know he was being given a pity victory. He didn't mind so much in fact he thought it a rather kind gesture on the doctor's part. But for sake of saving face Arden feigned utter indignation. "Henry Jekyll you let me win!"

Henry only smiled in response.

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Tom had awoken early in that morning with a violent headache. It was as if someone were playing a phonograph in his head while slowly crushing his temples in a vice. As of late the sudden migraines he suffered from were not unusual but this particular one was more violent and unrelenting than the others. Dread, nausea, anger, and pain swallowed him up all at once. Knowing that the pain would cease if he ventured above deck it was all he could do to drag himself out of bed only to glance out the window and notice in utter defeat that The Nautilus had submerged itself. No doubt the waters above had gotten a bit too rough for Nemo's tastes a man who played it rather safe than sorry in an almost religious way. What was happening to him? Was he dying or slowly going insane? He didn't think so. He still felt like himself but there was something else there too. Something that was trying to make it's presence known in the most vile of ways.

It was a thankful coincidence that Dorian happened to be passing Tom's quarters as the boy stumbled out, intent on getting to a darker more quiet place. He was struck by a violent flash of white knifed pain that cut through him as easily as Mena could cut through flesh. Blood began to leak from his nose as he was assaulted with violent images of his own death, of The League's death. He fought to maintain his footing as images continued to assail him. Countless outcomes flashed through his mind with no indication as to the cause. He saw Mena Harker more clearly than his own eyes could in blood lust. He saw blood, water, felt a damning pressure upon him. Stain glass shattered in his mind and divided itself into more images. He felt as if he were on a demented carousel and there was no escape. Sheer terror helped him to open his eyes to see Dorian lunging forward to steady him as tears and blood leaked onto the floor of the Nautilus. It was like stigmata of the mind or a mad doctor drilling those dreaded holes in his temples. Someone was trying to show him something and the more he opened to it the more his mind acquiesced to the visions. It was then that Tom knew what he was with a flawless clarity. Understood what happened and marginally began to accept what he could not change and that he would no longer be seperate from The League but on equal footing.

Tom felt Dorian attempting to shake him out of his stupor but there was still more his mind wanted him to see. Countless more images flashed before him conveying a message only he could decipher. Faster and faster the carousel spun with it's deranged visions. He could hear glass breaking in his mind as he attempted to hold onto the fragments that were drilling holes into his mind and lobotomizing the tenuous grip he had on his senses. Urging the visions to slow he reached out to them, begging them to cease their terrifying madness. Each vision instilled within him it's very own emotion. When he saw Mena drad. With Allan he was gripped with fear. Henry and Arden prompted a happy and sad feeling all at the same time. And Rand, there the man was, holding vigil over him but instead of fear, or dread, or hate he felt as if he held an alliance with the man. The emotions associated with him were like those one would associate with a friend, an ally, or perhaps an acquaintance one would think meant no harm. When he saw Dorian an odd indecipherable feeling swept over him. He saw his own death at the hands of faceless beings. But more prominently there was the blood. The message!? What was the fucking message? What did he need to know to stop this damning pain?

Finally it became clear. The realization struck like an epiphany and the images slowed. Calming him before slowly stopping their spinning and leading him once again to the memories of white swathed angels and heavenly voices. It was as if his own mind was soothing him, petting his hair and whispering reassurances in his ear the way a mother would her injured child. Tom almost sobbed in relief and then in fear. Something very bad was going to happen very soon and the cause would be by someone in the League itself. But who was the mystery. And just as quickly as the visions came they stopped and Tom found himself once more back to his old sense of reality holding onto Dorian's shirt for dear life and panting heavily. Moreover he was very suprised to find Dorian stroking his hair and the small of his back as he calmed himself and the visions released their hold on him.

Completely out of breath and utterly embarassed with himself Tom released his grip on the man's shirt and stumbled back with wary eyes. Rolling his eyes at the distraught American Dorian fished a kerchief from his front pocket and very gingerly pressed it to Tom's face wiping away blood and tears. His latest 'project' was simply full of suprises however Dorian did not turn his back on a potential conquest until said conquering was done and for now he had to simply feign interest in the boy's well being no matter how akward it would be for him. Mortals were so easy to sway with acts of affection and Tom was no different if not more responsive to touch than most. Tom however seemed to not want to abide any touching and pushed his hand away cleaning up the mess on his face himself.

"Come now Thomas no need to be so cold after you ruined a perfectly good shirt." With a glare that fell short of anything remotely menacing and more resembling a pout he wiped away his tears in mortification. But Dorian was to allow him none of his shame until he got to the bottom of this episode though he had a feeling he already knew the secrets of it. He had noticed it before Thomas himself did. The way the boy, with his back turned, would reach to hand a tool to someone before even asked. Suprising the hell out of more than one of Nemo's crew. How he would sometimes even notice before Dorian when Mena was coming around the corner despite not having any fine tuned senses to speak of. Thomas was developing unusual skills and it obviously frightened and pained him. Dorian knew the ways of the world and its mysteries better than most. He had seen things learned men could not even begin to imagine and great writers waxed in a poetic jealousy of. "Come now Thomas, you should realize at this point I mean no ill will towards you. Just calm yourself and tell me what you saw."

It was true Dorian hadn't mean Thomas any ill will. In fact the man had been very slow with his conquest of Thomas. Giving the boy time to adjust to the idea and had hardly put his hands on him in any suggestive ways. It wasn't easy either. But Tom was of a different ilk than the European fops and dandies so eager to share his bed. The boy had a hot head and one step too far in the wrong direction would set him back to square one. And then he'd have to do the unthinkable and apologize to the boy to earn his way back into his good graces. He'd simply rather take his time and get it done all in one go.

As he spoke those words Tom looked so obscenely grateful that Dorian almost turned his head. The innocence of this youth reminded him of things best kept hidden from anyone's memories save his own. He did not wish to be looked upon in such a way. It made things complicated and Dorian unnecessarily nostaligiac. Tom Sawyer's trust was such a foolish and unwanted thing to him but he had opened upon himself a can of worms he could not close now. However having the upper hand against The League was an enjoyable thing. In a childish comical abruptness Tom plopped himself down in the hall of the Nautilus. Covered in blood and a thin sheen of sweat it seemed rather obscene to Dorian who had never lowered himself to sitting on the floor. He would stand before he would ever park himself upon any filthy floor. How crude Americans were. Dorian was ready to say something to this effect when Mena Harker rounded the corner in what could have only been described as the 'wrong time'.

From anyone's point of view it looked as if Dorian had struck the boy down. He could not rightly blame her for this assumption as her fury was immediate. "Dorian Gray!" She roared. She knew it. She just knew it! Dorian had corrupted that poor boy, besotted him, bedded him, and struck him when Tom had questioned and attacked Dorian for his cold rejection. What a callous man but it was no less than she expected of him. "How dare you!"

"Such righteous indignation. You know hypocricy is not an attractive quality in a lady my dear Mena. You care not a whim for this boy. Your anger comes from the satisfaction you get at exposing my flaws." Once again that ever cold smirk appeared on his face. A trademark of the charming Dorian Gray who could push a child down a well and be forgiven with just a smile and polite tip of his hat.

"Oh shut it Dorian and get away from Tom."

"Mena please calm yourself, there's no need for such animosity. Thomas and I were merely conversing. A habit I notice you seem to have lost." At this point Tom was on his feet and standing behind Dorian wary of Mena and her rage.

"Tom, come away from him. Allan will be furious when he finds out." When Tom made no move towards her she snapped. "I said come away from him Tom."

"Mrs. Harker, I'm fine. Dor-," and as he always had been by Mena and various other members of the League he was cut off. As if what he had to say was of no importance.

"Tom, please. Do not be so easily swayed by him. He's the prince of lies! Don't let him hurt you and forgive him without a thought. Be smart!" She pleaded with him. Dorian noticed with a smirk Tom's rising fury.

"Don't ya know it's not polite to interrupt some mid-sentence! God damnit Mrs. Harker let me speak! Just one time let me finish a sentence without jumping in. Number one Satan is the prince of lies though I'd say Dorian probably does come in a close second!" At this comment Dorian snorted clearly amused. One couldn't argue with the truth.

"And number two, he didn't hit me so I don't need to come with you. And what's Goddamn more I-I'm not sleeping with him. And who I do sleep with is none of your damn business.You ain't got no interest in me beyond what lies you expect me to tell on him. Leave me be and stop following us around every corner. Ya ain't gonna hear nothing we don't want you to hear that's for sure. And-And ya know what else? I think you're to blind to see beyond your envy and you've lost all your common sense. I'm not tha one so eager to jump into bed with him! It's you!" Thomas huffed. Dorian was rather startled that the young man would speak in such a way to Mena and with such unerring if poorly worded accuracy on her behalf. Dorian was wonderfully entertained.

"You're hateful Mrs. Harker. Plain and simple. You're vile and hateful and you're mad that he hasn't 'corrupted' or 'used' me. You're mad you couldn't say I told ya so. And you're mad-," once again his sentence was cut off. But this time by something more than words. Rather a brutal slap to the face with all of Mena's preternatural speed.

"How dare you speak to me that way! I'm only trying to help you. Now regain what's left of your addled senses and come with me," grabbing his arm she was stopped by Dorian's fist closing around her arm and squeezing hard enough to break bones. Forcing her to release her hold on Sawyer.

"You vile, hypocritical bitch." Dorian's voice came out in a low seething tone she had never heard before. In all his years of life he had never used such language against a woman. But seeing Sawyer so brutally struck by a woman that could break him in half put the nail in the coffin in which he had buried Mena long ago. He did not take kindly to people hurting those he claimed as his. "Touch him again and I will see it as a valid reason to end your life. Go ahead Mena. Try to justify striking the boy you were jumping to defend for the same offense on my part only moments ago. Get out of my sight." With a shove that was not by any means gentle he pushed her away. She exited with no comportment whatsoever, her face burning with shame and Dorian turned around abruptly to see to Thomas.

His actions suprised even himself. Never had he so furiously defended someone he was not sleeping with or had not slept with. He almost felt ill as he realized that he was beginning to look at Tom as less of a conquest and more as a friend. However the connection was a fragile one. He needed to destroy it. Ruin the connection before he came to care for someone besides himself. He needed to seduce the brash American, woo him into his bed with gentle words and false promises of love and tenderness. He needed to fuck the boy into oblivion. Send him into unspeakable throes of passion and do away with him. End this stupid connection he had forged with him. But when he looked upon the utterly crestfallen young man, holding his stinging cheek and looking for all the world as if his most beloved friend had died... Dorian could not do it. At least not now. Caring and love were not the motivation of such an epiphany. But he did have respect for the young man and he respected so very few.

"Did she... hurt you?"

"Nah. Well just my pride." Dorian chuckled soflty.

"Come on then, let's get you cleaned up. We need to talk. No doubt Mena has stalked off to Quartermaine or her quarters to lick her wounds. God knows the last thing you needed was a blow to the head. Though I'm quite sure your words were worth it." Wrapping a companionable arm around Tom's waist he had to fight the sudden almost uncontrollable urge to run his hand through those strawberry blonde curls Dorian found so unspeakably attractive about the boy. Why was it when he most needed him to be annoying that Sawyer became so entertaining... so likeable. With no preamble he began to lead Tom to his quarters.

"Careful Dorian, if ya keep this up people might start accusing you of bein' nice." Ah there it was. Back again. The good old ever annoying Thomas that Dorian loved to berate.

"Careful Thomas. If you keep making comments like that people might actually start accusing you of having a brain." Thomas was only taken aback for a moment before he began to laugh.

"Good, the old Dorian has returned. It's damn good to have ya back." Smirking despite of himself he was quite pleased that the American could give as good as he got. However Dorian always had the last word and no matter how crass and quick of tongue the American was he was quicker.

"Well Thomas if you stop dawdling I'll continue to berate you in my quarters to your heart's content." Tom frowned. He wasn't that easy to bowl over. The American huffed rather loudly sending his bangs flying askance.

"If that was one o' them double entendres it fell awfully short." Ah, so the boy wanted to play hardball.

Leaning in until his lips were mere centimeters away from Tom's Dorian tucked a stawberry curl behind the boy's ear and spoke softly into it. "I hardly require the use of double meanings when actions speak far louder than any tawdry words," before the boy even thought to respond the hedonistic immortal leaned in and nipped at Tom's ear. Not once but twice. The result was instantaneous as all the blood in Tom's body rushed to his face staining his cheeks the most delightful shade of cherry red. "Hm, for a tough talking American spy you blush so easily." Opening the door to his quarters he grinned and waited for Tom to enter.

"D-Dorian!" Cried the Tom still blushing madly holding his offended ear. "That- That was a dirty trick." Triumphant was the look that graced Dorian's face as his victory was assured. Oh yes, he still had it. But there was never any doubt.

**Questions? Coments? Criticisms? Yeah I have 'em too. Why don't you throw them my way in a review. Please excuse any historical inconsistencies. Some of them are purposeful some are not. There's only so many things I'll dilligently look up on Wiki.**

**1. Castling - A move in chess, only legal once, in which if side by side the king and the rook (That's the castle for all you non players out there) can switch places. I've won many a game pulling out that hidden gem. Use it on your friends next time they play. :D Nine times out of ten people simply won't know what hit them because they don't know about the move. That's when you whip out your handy dandy chess book o' rules and pwn their ass.**

**2. Woot. Another chess rule. On your pawn's opening move you're allowed to move two spaces rather than one. I don't reccomend it unless you're an advanced player and familiar with certain strategies. Which is why Henry referred to it as a foolish move on Arden's part.**

**3. Cultures - Yes, for all you history/science buffs eager to correct me, I'm aware that lab cultures did not originate or made aware of until 1907 thanks to the work of Ross Granville Harrison using frog nerve cells. Suprising how it's still in use today huh? That was a tissue culture. I'm aware that it's the year 1902 in this fic and that lab cultures didn't really come around until 1928 at St. Mary's hospital in London where Alexander Flemming created the cure to Gonorrhea we all know and love known as pennicillin. Though I must tell you that earlier work had noticed the effects of pennecillium Fleming was the one who made it the golden shot of STD cure. All science is not original and based on the works of others, plagarism is alive and well in this world, it doesn't only relate to art. We'll be taking a trip to St. Mary's shortly in this fic so I need you all to pay attention. However if LXG can have a giant submarine surpassing any technology we have today I'm entitled to my little inconsistencies. Woo! Give it up to all the boring kids who paid attention in biology!**

**Next Chapter - Unresolved sexual tension abounds. And for all you curious about this mysterious 'Rand' and Allan's return I'll be posting the prequel to the Arc very soon. I just have to strike while the iron's hot with part 1 of this massive arc that's succeeded in consuming my life. Not to worry Rodney, Allan, and Nemo fans. They'll have a much bigger part the next chapter. For the sake of not making the chapters impossibly long and boring I've had to cut things up. What's wrong with Mena? Find out in the next chapter. Will Dorian molest Tom? You better believe it. Also stay tuned for the insertion of more famous literary characters as well as impossibly complex scientific terminology. Don't worry I have footnotes prepared. And lot's of Jekyll and Arden cuteness. Oh and Hyde's coming too.**


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